Finding the Light
by ThoughtsInTheWind
Summary: A sudden flash of memory sends Elena to Damon, hell-bent on her quest for answers and for guidance. When the stakes involve her heart and her newly-immortalized future, will she finally accept that the brightest light exists in the deepest darkness?
1. Chapter 1

A/N I promised a new story and here I am with it. You guys will notice that this is in first-person unlike Road Trips and Realizations, and that's the case because this needs to delve into the characters. Anyway, time to have fun and remember to leave some review love!

Official Disclaimer

I do not own The Vampire Diaries. All associated characters and entities are the property of the CW and LJ Smith. Only the plot of this story is mine and this disclaimer applies to this chapter, as well as the entirety of this body of work.

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Chapter 1 - EPOV

I can feel the power surging through me, endlessly dark and irresistible. My eyes and ears latch on to the sensory framework of the forest, rendering me completely aware and yet also befuddled by the sheer volume of stimuli. From somewhere to my left, Stefan's voice breaks through the figurative fog.

"Elena? Are you listening to me?" he says, and I whip my head around.

"I am." I scan the surroundings, trying to keep in mind that Stefan's teaching me. "What do I hunt?"

"Just close your eyes and try to latch on to the sound of blood. Find the nearest source and attune yourself to it."

I close my eyes as asked. Given the lack of visual stimulation, it's surprisingly easy to redirect my focus to my ears. The seconds tick by, punctuated by bird calls. One second passes. Two. Three. Finally, I hear it.

It's there, somewhere in the distance, and my entire body is telling me to go after it. My legs are itching to run after my target, to go chase down the sound of blood pumping through veins. Before I've even registered my decision to move, my body is already zipping through the underbrush. The world whizzes by in a blur, until I collide with the deer, my fangs sinking into the object of my desires.

The whole Twilight feeling draws a quick laugh from my lips, before I go back to relishing in the warm blood gushing down my throat. The taste is definitely off, but I manage. At least, until my mind is bombarded by a sudden memory of me and Damon.

_"Katherine," he says in a whisper, looking at me with the bluest eyes imaginable. _

_I turn to see if he's referring to anyone behind me. Seeing no one, I say,"Uh no. I'm Elena."_

_Clear shock takes over his features for a moment, his head moving the slightest bit in his bewilderment. "Oh. You just look..." His eyes roam over me again, clearly processing the situation. "I'm sorry. You just really remind me of someone." A single heartbeat passes in the relative silence. "I'm Damon."_

I stagger backwards, the carcass of the bloodied deer completely forgotten. Right now, all I can think about is the sudden rush of remembrance. Taking Stefan's lesson to heart, I close my eyes again, willing the memory to take over my mind once more.

_"Not to be weird or anything Damon," I say, "but it's kinda creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."_

_"You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself."_

_"It's Mystic Falls. Nothing bad ever happens here."_

How fucking wrong that turned out to be.

_An interminable wait passes between us, before I admit the reason for my presence in the woods. "Got into a fight with my boyfriend."_

_"B__out what?" His hands go up, placating me. "May I ask."_

_I shake my head. "Life. Future." I sigh internally. "He's got it all mapped out."_

_"You don't want it?" He looks sure, despite his questioning tone._

Fuck. Even then he always saw right through me.

_I shrug. "I don't know what I want." _

Ha. Nice to know how consistent I am.

_He is speaking again. Even though his stance is carefree, his voice is filled with the weight of innumerable experiences. "Well that's not true," he says. "You want what everybody wants."_

_My resulting smile is a challenge, wordlessly asking him if he knows me. My next words reflect the same sentiment. __"What? Mysterious stranger who has all the answers." _

_He smiles at that, and I find my own grin growing wider. His gait is easy as he responds. "Hm. Let's just say I've been around a long time. I've learned a few things." His face is as expressive as ever, and I find myself entranced by it, if only for a brief moment. _

_"So Damon," I say. "Tell me. What is it that I want?"_

_I watch him come closer with every word, the confidence displayed on his handsome face. "You want a love that consumes you." His voice arouses unspeakable things. "You want passion, an adventure, even a little danger." His smile stops me in my tracks. _

Jesus fucking Christ. That was the same thing I admitted to Matt. Being with Damon consumed me.

_In the next second, I compose myself. The curiosity is back. "So what do you want?" I wait, delighting in his sudden and fruitless search for an answer._

_The seconds tick by again. The sound of the car breaks the spell, so I turn around and glimpse the headlights. "It's my parents," I say. When I return to look at Damon, I easily lose myself in the prison, the inescapable ocean of his eyes. _

_"I want you to get everything you're looking for," he says, his voice sounding so very genuine. "But right now I want you to forget that this happened. Can't have people knowing I'm in town yet." He smiles for a moment, and then his face turns pensive. "Goodnight, Elena."_

As soon as the memory ends, all thought of hunting gets obliterated from my mind. There is no talk of blood, no notions of Stefan. Even the forest, alive and vibrant, seems to fade into the background. There is only _that_ moment, only that forgotten interaction between me and the elder Salvatore brother. I'm stopped in my tracks, I'm held hostage by the recollection. Somehow I don't even care that he compelled me. All I truly care about is my sudden epiphany.

_"Maybe if you and I had met first."_

Oh God. Damon and I _did_ meet first.

"Elena, you okay?"

I turn my head in the direction of the voice, somewhat annoyed that he intruded on my moment. "Be quiet, Stefan."

"Is something wrong?"

"No," I say. I point to the deer and watch him smile at my evident success. "I'm fine, but right now I really need to find Damon."

I don't wait for his response as I speed away in the direction of the boarding house.

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DPOV

I feel like I'm goddamned Atlas.

The weight of the whole world feels like it's resting on my shoulder, wearing me down into undeniable and embarrassing submission. Even the burn of bourbon down my throat does nothing to dull my awareness. Awareness of what, you ask? Well, let me enlighten you.

First off, Elena's a vampire. That fact highlights Stefan's sad inability to compromise her free will, which has thus far resulted in him saving Matt Donovan. Did I mention he saved Matt Donovan and thereby allowed Elena to die? Fuck. Don't even get me started on the whole Psycho Doctor _She-Needed-My-Help _bit. As if that wasn't enough, Stefan's the one teaching Elena to cope.

Say it with me here. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck._

In no fucking universe should someone like Stefan ever be allowed to teach Elena the basics of vampirism. Teach her how to brood? Fine, he has a fucking PhD in that fine art. Maybe teach her how to style her hair? Fine, God knows how much shit he puts in his 'do.

Teach her how to be a vampire, on the other hand? Fuck no. No, no, no, no, no. Just..._no_.

Well with that said, I'm going off kilter here, so let me reiterate my previous point.

I feel like I'm Atlas because I'm unable to move. Just like him, my movement equals the possible destruction of the known world. At least, the Stefan and Elena world, that is. If I move and confront her in the middle of their little hunting exercise, shit is sure to go down. After all, she's said it herself. She never un-fell for my saintly fucker of a brother, so everything between us has become moot. Even her hunting methods belong in Stefan's territory.

Her choice is clearly made, and my unfortunately epic love for her is saying I should respect that choice. Honestly, when the _fucking _fuck did I get so moral? I'm actually expecting my hair to turn into Stefan's shortly, so just you wait.

Still, though I may have rediscovered a small bit of my severely-damaged moral compass, I'm nowhere near Stefan's magnitude. So like any self-respecting, slightly lovesick fool, I drown my sorrows in glorious bourbon. I positively _revel_ in the burn of the liquor, imagining that same fire burning away all my agonies and hurts. For a merciful moment, it works too. My mind clouds and my awareness grows ever more hazy. Even the armchair seems to be accepting me, willing me to become a part of its plush softness.

I'm finally succeeding in my quest to move on and to forget, until I hear her soft voice in my ear.

"I need to talk to you," she says, prompting me to open my eyes. Her brown orbs seem to be burrowing into my very soul.

"Talk to me about what?" I ask, trying to keep myself detached and nonchalant. _Keep it cool, Salvatore._

She pauses for a second.

"I know I met you first."

_Holy shit_. The compulsion is gone because she's a vampire. Why the hell did my mind repress that vital piece of information? Bad mind. Baad mind.

In the next moment, my response to her is simple. Truthfully, I don't know what else to say. Taking an unnecessary breath, I speak.

"Okay, you know. Now what, Elena?"

As I wait for her answer, Stefan strolls in, having obviously heard our most recent exchange. An unfortunate litany of _fuck-shit-fuck _is running through my head, mocking me to the tune of Handel's Messiah.

Is it too cliche to say fuck my life?

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A/N Let no one say that I don't write promptly. Here is the first chapter of my newest project, and I so hope to hear everyone's feedback. Did I get their voices right, so to speak? Plus, do you guys have any requests for content or predictions on what's coming next? Tell me what you think through a review! Let's say, maybe fifteen for this chapter? Come on guys, you know how your feedback helps structure this story, right? I need it!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N So, honestly, I had the hardest time ever with this chapter. I don't know why, but I seem to have had so many conflicting ideas for this update. Anyway, after much deliberation, this is the version I'm happiest with. Without further ado, and because I feel bad having made you all wait, I give you Chapter 2!

Remember to leave me some feedback - most thought-provoking review gets a special surprise and the power to heavily influence the events of the next chapter. Who doesn't want that?

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EPOV

Clearly, a human tastes vastly different from a deer.

There's a certain sense of richness to the blood, a subtle note of vitality and power that just can't be missed. And yet, even if my world has been temporarily reduced to the life I'm presently consuming, I find myself completely unafraid. Though my prey has changed, I sense no inner fear. I _know _I will get past this.

More than that, I also know he's there, and while he is, nothing bad will happen. I understand this crucial fact not because of logic or some well-proven theory, but out of a deep-seated feeling in my gut. My entire _being_ seems to know that while _Damon_ holds my hand, no tragedy will befall this brief and stolen moment in the darkness.

True to such expectations, he is the voice of reason and restraint, pulling me away with the gentlest of touches. "Enough," he says, his tone firm but in no way condescending. "Come on, Elena."

At that, I resist for a moment, feeling a little defensive. After all, some part of me says that Damon is intruding, trying to separate me from my deliciously-caught quarry. Despite such instincts, the remaining part knows that it's Damon.

It's _Damon _and I promised to listen to him. As expected, I find that the knowing part wins out, so I pull away. Damon takes care of the rest of the process, before he turns to me. Ever so gently, he wipes a stray drip of blood from my lips. Even though I can see the arousal in his eyes from the spectacle, his voice is that of a friend, maybe even that of a proud parent.

"You did it," he says, and I rejoice on the inside. "You should know, I'm very proud of you."

Once he says that, my legs give out and I sink into the comfort of his embrace. I whisper a quick _thank you_ against his chest, feeling him press a comforting kiss to the top of my head.

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DPOV

As soon as we walk into the boarding house hand-in-hand, Stefan tries to rush forward and check on Elena. I do know that it's childish, but I'm gloating at the fact that she clearly doesn't want him.

"I'm fine, Stefan," she says, dismissing his fussy attention. "I just need some time to think." To my delight, he looks appropriately stunned. Like some pre-rehearsed moment, he turns to me and spouts his usual question.

"What did you do, Damon?"

He always asks it without fail, as if everything shocking in the world is somehow my doing. I finally decide that I've had enough of his righteous bullshit. "I taught her to feed properly, Stefan, that's what I did. Sorry, but I fucking taught her how to be a real vampire." I scoff at him, fully intending to make him feel like an unwanted brat. "Now if you'll excuse us, Elena needs some time to think while I need a glass of bourbon, so shut your mouth."

Right on cue, he disobeys me and explodes. Fucking idiot.

"Are you crazy?" he asks, and I scoff again. "She could've killed someone!"

"Oh, just shut up, will you?" I turn to Elena, intending to use her to get him quiet. "Answer me this, Gilbert. Did you kill someone?"

"No." I observe her while she answers, smiling. She looks proud of her achievement, as she well should be. With her reaffirmation out of the way, I return my indignation to Stefan.

"See?" I say, more than a little annoyed. "She didn't kill anyone, so ease the fuck up with your righteous tirade and let me have my bourbon."

I'm halfway done with my walk to the liquor cabinet when I feel him restrain my arm. _Oh, no he didn't._

Turning to face him at vampire speed, I shrug his arm off and back him into the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" I ask. "Can't you get my request through that thick head of yours, or are you secretly jealous that her achievement was under my watch?"

I hear Stefan growl, knowing the jealousy bit was a low blow. Gripping his neck like a vise, I continue.

"So what is it, little bro? I bet you're jealous. You taught her how to hunt fucking _Bambi_. _I _taught her how to hunt properly. Tack that up on your nonexistent Damon vs. Stefan cork board."

I can sense he wants to retaliate, but is unable to do so on account of his still-inferior strength. A second later, I begin to laugh at his futile struggles, until I feel Elena's hand on my shoulder. Her touch is gentle, relaxing me instantly.

"Damon, stop, okay?" When I loosen my grip, she surprises me, lowering her hand to stroke my arm. My relaxation turns into rather mild excitement. "Calm down, okay? We still need to talk, remember? We had a deal."

"What deal?" When is this idiot gonna stop butting in when he's clearly not wanted?

"Steffie," I say, using my most nanny-like voice. "Didn't I teach you not to interrupt when grownups are talking?"

I hear Elena sigh at my sarcasm. "The deal isn't about you, Stefan. Damon and I need to talk, and you don't need to be there."

I know it's wrong, but her putting Stefan down just got my engine revving. Fuck.

"Elena, I think that's not..." Didn't she just say shut up, more or less? Stefan's idiocy is astounding at this moment.

Finally, she totally puts her foot down. I gotta say, I'm liking Vampire Elena more and more now. "I said you _don't_ need to be there, Stefan. The talk is between Damon and me, so it clearly has nothing to do with you. _Please_ respect that."

Ooh, she just pulled out the Respect My Free Will card. Take that, bitch. Can't resist now, can you? You can? Yes? No? Didn't think so.

As I expect, Stefan acquiesces to her request. "Alright," he finally says. "Just please be careful." His warning causes me to shake my head. It's not like I'll fucking murder her, for God's sake.

"Oh God, finally!" I quip, looking appropriately _ecstatic _that he's leaving. Smiling, I tell him, "Thank you for bowing out, dearest brother, now go the fuck away please and let me talk with Elena."

Mercifully, he follows my directions, even if he does it with a scowl on his permanently-brooding face.

I give him a _Go-To-Your-Room-Young-Man _smile, as if to say, "Go ahead, Stef. Scowl all you want and see if I give a fuck."

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EPOV

As soon as we're alone, Damon asks me the same question as before. This time I'm unable to hide behind the pretense of hunger. My bloodlust and my baser desires are sated, my mind painfully aware of every single word coming out of his mouth.

"So now you know we met first," he says. "What are you gonna do with that, Elena?"

Since I don't know the answer, I put the ball in his court. "What do you expect me to do with it?"

He plops down on the nearby armchair. "To be honest? Nothing. I did that because I really couldn't have anyone knowing I was in town. That little bout of compulsion was the self-serving version of me at its best." He smirks. "Damon the Dick at your service, ma'am."

I shrug at his sarcastic remark, trying to copy his nonchalance. "Fine," I say, "I'll forgive you for it. But I do need to know, did you compel me another time? Best to just come out with it now, Damon. To tell you the truth, I still haven't dealt with everything and I'd rather not have another mental surprise."

"Why?" he asks. "You'll remember on your own anyway. It's not a big deal if I tell you, it changes nothing anyway."

I detect a hint of sadness at that point, an indelible mark of concealed despair. Because of it, I hunger all the more for the knowledge he's withholding.

"Damon," I whisper, cradling his face. "I can see it affects you, so it has to be a big deal. Please be cooperative with me on this." I take a breath. "Now I'll ask again - did you compel me another time?"

With my sensitive eyes, I carefully watch his struggle. More than ever before, I see the interplay of emotions marring the planes of his handsome face. The wait seems like it stretches into eternity, but I finally get my answer.

Instead of words though, it's Damon's lips doing the talking. For decency's sake, I resist for the briefest of moments. And then, like all pointless struggles, I finally give in with a groan of agonized pleasure. As his lips move over mine with irresistible power, the memory finally hits me.

It's in bits and pieces, but I have everything I need to know.

_"I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you, that I can't be selfish with you." The accompanying look in his eyes paralyzes me. It's a look of pain so acute that it shatters the heart. To know that it's from Damon - that is nothing less than a miracle._

In the midst of my recollection, I am still against him. It's a hold as secure as the shelter of a tree, one that perhaps would remain standing for all of eternity.

_"I don't deserve you," he says, his voice so full of pain that my heart weeps for a moment. "B__ut my brother does."_

In that moment, I finally know why we were doomed from the start. That pronouncement of his was our end, but now that I remembered his confession, I was determined to make sure it would be our new beginning.

"You know," I say, my voice low, "you should know better."

He looks curiously at me, his curiosity further evidenced by his next question. "What do you mean, Elena?"

"You should know better than to say you don't deserve me and then compel me. What else would I have known but that?"

When the understanding dawns in his eyes, I can see he's reconciled himself to his compulsion's unwitting results. Once he finally decides to comment, I intervene and put a finger to his lips. Giving him a kiss on the cheek, I whisper, "You deserve me too."

At my words, it's safe to say that the resulting look of love on his face literally brings me to tears. Suddenly, I see Damon the man in front of me, as innocent and as hopeful as he was probably was in 1864. For the first time, he looks uninjured.

Not uninjured as in healed, but uninjured as if he'd never been hurt in the first place.

In the silence, he asks his question. It's the question that will determine our future, the query that determines what our tomorrows will look like.

"Now you remember," he says, and his voice is so very quiet. "Does the recollection change anything?"

I look up at him and smile. "Oh no," I say. "Not just anything, Damon. That memory changes _everything_."

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A/N Hell yeah, cliffhanger. Anyway, I'm already editing the third chapter, pending the input you guys will share through your feedback. With that said, I'm going to have fun with this story, since it will include interactions with the gang of Mystic Falls. There will even be some Caroline/Tyler-Klaus hijinks, also featuring Elena and Damon's reaction to the whole thing.

As to other components like hunts, lessons and smut - such aspects are also included. Anyway, everyone knows that's par for the course, correct? Just remember to leave a review, since that pushes me to write. See you guys in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Hello again and I hereby present to you the third chapter of FTL, in which our dear Damon and Elena get into a very compromising situation. That said, let me not delay you guys and I hope you enjoy the this installment of the story. Do remember to leave a review!

Also, to _Danni1989_, _tukct81_, _onerepublicgirl_ and _VampireGleek77_ - I've begun the process of creating connections for the purposes of DocX here on the site. Please be so kind as to confirm the connection as soon as possible. I have a very special surprise for you guys when it comes to the next chapter, and it will not get uploaded without the input from that surprise.

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EPOV

All I can focus on is the maddening spectacle of the blood - I can literally see and _hear _it, rich and dripping enticingly onto the hardwood floor of the Salvatore boarding house. Today, Damon has brought a stranger home, insisting that I should learn to regulate my drinking before any talk of my humanity can begin.

"It's hard to be human when you're starving and all you want to do is take a bite," he says, motioning casually to the leggy blonde he's designated as this afternoon's McPeople take-out. Since freaking when did I start calling humans as McPeople?

Holy shit, I've been spending _waaaay _too much time with Damon.

When I raise my protest to ask if this sort of lesson is really necessary, he puts on that damnable stare of his and I feel compelled all over again. Pretty jerk.

"Just take a bite sweetheart," he urges again, his fangs already out. "You need to be sated before you think of any other higher-order shit, please remember that. The deal is simple. Drink first, recover humanity later."

The callous way he says it just rubs me the wrong way. "How come Stefan's way is different?"

He shrugs, rendering my question as something insignificant. "Stefan's way is denial. Think about it for a sec." He dips one finger into a puncture on the blonde's neck, as if to bolster his point and taunt me further. "Imagine being unsatisfied. If I bring you to the Grill, all you'll be able to think about is biting someone. And when you do, that bite will hurt because you've been so denied of crucial nourishment."

After a moment, his words start to make sense. "So you're telling me I need to sate my bloodlust regularly, like eating regular meals?"

"Exactly." Damon looks appropriately proud of my sudden epiphany. "It's easier to control when you regularly feed. That way, when you drink up your next meal, you're not as desperate. Ergo, the human you bite will be all the better for it."

I nod at him, communicating my understanding. Even if the whole road to me being a vampire has been crazy, I'm thankful that at least Damon is here to help me through it. "Is that all you wanted to teach me today?"

"Nope," he says, popping the last part. "Today I'll teach you a tiny lesson I like to call _Best Biting Practices, Baby Vampire Edition._ I assume you don't want to hurt nor kill them when you feed?"

"Of course not."

"Good," he says, his smile bordering on lewd. "Now come over and let's have some fun."

Damon beckons to me, waiting as I walk over somewhat shyly. From deep inside me, I know that nothing about this is like yesterday. Yesterday was a trial run, something of a one-off where Damon did all the catching. This on the other hand? This is me being required to bite wherever Damon says to bite, pulling away whenever Damon says so. I'm convinced that this is a cruel exercise in directed repetition, and that conviction runs to the marrow of my undead bones.

Also, even if I succeeded yesterday, the niggling doubts are still there. What if I can't do it? Jesus, what if I kill this girl just because I still lack control? I know I'd never be able to forgive myself. Luckily, Damon is there, watching as I inch closer to the target he's set. When I make my first move, my lips gently closing over his pre-bitten wound on her neck, his words are the symphonies in my ear again.

"Be careful, sweetheart," he says. I repress a shiver at his endearment, while my mind whispers that his voice is like that of my own dark angel.

* * *

DPOV

The sight in front of me is pure evil. It's evil because I can't do a single fucking thing about it. In this situation - this whole fucked-up situation where Elena is drinking oh-so-seductively from the blonde - I have to be the bigger fucking person.

Right now, all that's getting bigger is the raging hard-on in my jeans, pulsing and itching to be set free. I mean, I just _know _my dick will probably have zipper marks from the goddamn exertion. Mind you, it really doesn't help that Elena's quiet whimpers serve as music to my ears.

From beside her, I consign myself to watching. I'm waiting and assessing the whole thing like some calm frigging Gandhi, and fuck all if it isn't hard to do that.

Instead of this whole nobility facade I'm putting up, all I honestly want to do is pull Elena away, ravage her with my lips, my hands and practically every other body part I have. For God's sake, does she really have to sound so fucking appealing as she feeds? Goddamn it. I'm convinced that this moment is the ironic payment for my century-and-a-half's worth of sins.

What I don't understand is this - why the hell do I want to keep paying? Oh right, I want it because I'm me.

_Hi, my name is Damon Salvatore and I'm a world-class masochist. _Jesus Christ.

* * *

EPOV

"Pull away now," I finally hear, from somewhere to my left. Given the newly-added amount of blood in my system, I find that pulling away is easier now, and I now understand the truth of Damon's sage words. The hunger is muted in the background, just as he promised it would be.

"So what next?" I say, anticipating his next lesson.

Never in a million years would I expect to get _lessons_ from the infamous Damon Salvatore, yet here I am participating in his own version of Vampire 101, acting like some willing student waiting for my diploma.

_This is to certify that Elena Gilbert has successfully complied with all the requirements for a degree in BS Vampirism, under the tutelage of Damon Salvatore, PhD in Vampirism, Liquor Tolerance and Filthy, Unbridled Sexuality._

Jeez, I don't know where that bit came from.

Anyway, look at how times have changed in good old Mystic Falls. Then again, I guess being a vampire will do that to you. It will change you, undoubtedly redefining your conception of reality. Still, even despite so many changes in such a short time, Damon's next request is nothing short of astonishing.

His voice is desperate when he says it, the desperation mirrored in the way he shoves the blonde girl aside.

"Kiss me," he says, and I hesitate. After all, while I feel that Damon _is _the choice for me, I haven't really let that fact sink in yet. To be honest very few things have sunk in, and I'm feeling out of control more than ever.

When I hear Damon repeat his request a second later, the pained way he says it is my inevitable undoing.

"Kiss me, Elena," he pleads, his delivery akin to an agonized whisper. His barely-restrained need is palpable, and I know it's been roused by what he just witnessed me doing. I take one step forward and he takes care of the rest. What follows next is a kiss I know I'll carry with me for eternity.

* * *

DPOV

There's nothing human at all about this kiss and that's exactly the way I like it.

This time, our frantic lips are a mess of bloodied passion, tongues melding into a glorious dance of lust. The traces of blood do their part to heighten the entire experience, bringing us as close as our still-tenuous relationship will allow in this moment.

Somehow, this is always the way between us, maybe because our love isn't your textbook romantic type. In a sense, our love, like this kiss, is darkly beautiful. Even though there's something tragic about it, I find the whole thing perfect, in a peculiar and definitely non-Hallmark way.

After all, even if Elena looks so whole on the outside, I've seen her in her more broken moments. Much the same way, she's seen me during better days. With that said, and at the risk of sounding like a talking love song, I guess we just bring out the best in each other. I don't exactly know how to define our _best, _but fuck that all to hell.

Elena is kissing me like an appropriately blood-crazed maniac and _damn_ if it doesn't feel good.

Right now I feel like I'm drowning in her - drowning in her deliciously feminine scent, her fucking exciting sounds and her immaculate taste. By the way, have I ever mentioned that she tastes like chocolate and a million other things I'd kill for? Yep, I am most definitely screwed.

Again at the risk of sounding like a sap, only now do I realize that this girl has me whipped.

Oh yeah, let that sink in and shut up for a moment.

_I, Damon Salvatore, officially declare myself whipped at the hands of Elena Gilbert._

Can you hear that? It's the sound of fucking tribesmen from Papua New Guinea taking notice.

* * *

EPOV

This kiss feels like it's taking forever. Strangely, with Damon's hips grinding against mine and our lips locking desperately, I find myself having _absolutely _no problem with that.

You see, I used to think that kissing him was like biting into the world's most deliciously forbidden fruit. Now that I'm a vampire, kissing him feels like I'm consuming a freaking forbidden orchard.

True to all that I know so far, everything is heightened. The scrape of his jeans against mine is maddening, the motion of his tongue rendering me predictably incoherent. After all, what is there to be coherent about? There's nothing sensible about this whole thing, if you think about it.

All I know right now is that his hands are groping all over me, and I can feel the wall against my back all of a sudden. For a moment, I try to contemplate how the hell _that _happened, but then my libido decides that such an activity is fucking pointless. I'll tell you why.

No woman you see, short of being Mother Teresa, can contemplate anything when Damon's around. Add in the sinful way he's mauling my neck and he's figuratively hit a hole-in-one at Elena Golf.

Still, despite his impressive show of skill, I realize that reason needs to set in. As I firmly break our rhythm to push him away, I get confronted with the hurt on his face , see the rejection panning out like my own personal Damon-movie. Thankfully, I've already put my finger to his lips before he can spout off any words. To my relief, the gesture seems to mollify him, an act that says, "Don't worry about what I did."

Like the sucker he is, he takes that one finger and kisses it, before putting my wrist to his mouth for a quick nip. Bloody seductive son of a bitch.

"You're not helping, Damon," I say. "I'm trying to communicate something very important to you here."

"Mmm," is all that he says, before returning to his task. He's now letting his fangs graze the skin, threatening my already-waning control. "What might that be, my sweet little student?"

"First off, don't get fresh with me, Salvatore."

"Oh please. Do I need to remind you that you were grinding on me like a bitch in heat just a moment ago?" He accompanies his question with a smirk, and I don't know whether to slap it or kiss it off his face.

In lieu of both options, I smack his arm instead. "Shut up," I say, my voice determined. "It was totally you. How dare you put that on me."

He shrugs, pressing his all-too-obvious arousal against my center. "Pure semantics, honey. You grind, I grind, whatever. All I care about is that it felt _good_." He leers, before whispering near my neck. "Don't you want to feel good again?"

_Yes. _"No, now shut up and listen."

"Fine. I swear to God, Gilbert, the slavery you subject me to." He shakes his head like some sort of castigated puppy.

"Oh for crying out loud, get a life, Damon. For that matter, go the frigging Hague and file a case against me." I shake my head. "Whiner."

"Am not. Take that back, or you'll regret it," he says, flashing a bit of fang and inching closer. I mouth to him, "Never."

As soon as I feel him make good on his threat, I smack his arm again, stopping his little neck-grazing exercise. A little frustrated by his distraction skills, I ask him again. "Will you please just listen to me?"

To my enormous delight, he concedes. "Alright, Ms I'm No Fun," he says, before his voice takes on that all-too-familiar theatricality. "Pray tell, thou most venerable lady. What troubles thee so?"

Even though I try not to, I laugh. "Jesus you sound crazy."

"That's because I am. You've mind-fucked me."

I shake my head at his language. "Hell, Damon, did you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"For your information, yes I did, along with thousands of others since. And I'll have you know that they liked it."

"What, the mothers?" I laugh internally at my wit.

At that point, he wags his finger at me disapprovingly. "Now you're the one getting fresh with me, Miss Elena. Will you please just tell me what you interrupted our kiss for? Just be out with it."

"Well you'll think it's cheesy," I say, trying to keep my cool as I continue with my admission. "I at least want us to take this slow and tell Stefan too. He deserves to know my choice has changed. I think it's been that way a long time now."

In an utterance so against his normal talkativeness, all he manages to say is, "Oh."

Taking the opportunity, I tease him a bit. "Have I reduced the great Damon Salvatore to one-word answers? I'm so proud of myself."

"Ease up on the meanness," he finally replies. "You've been spending way too much time with me lately."

"Come on. I'm just using you for whatever skills you may have, because our relationship is truly _that _shallow."

"Oh? Using me for my skills, eh? Would you like a sample of every single _skill_ I have?" he asks, his eye-thing going _crazy_. "I do advise you to clear your schedule well into the next year if that's the case."

I shiver at the subtext and he smiles at me, all gentle and innocent like a child. Suffice it to say, such a look of innocence never belongs on the elder Salvatore's face. With that said though, it's his next question that brings me up short.

"Hey Elena," he says, totally serious. "Can you define what constitutes _taking it slow_, please?"

"Why?"

"Because though I wanna stick by your newest rule, I really fucking want to kiss you again right now."

Given how he said it, it's no surprise that I let him.

* * *

DPOV

Just as everything is dandy and I'm halfway to violently ripping Elena's top off, the entire fucking world suddenly goes to hell. Midway through our fuck-hot, against-the-wall make out session, she stops.

My mind plays one thought on permanent loop. _What the fuck?_

"Elena," I say, lowering my voice to a breathy whisper. "I swear to God, if your lips are not on mine in the next millisecond, I will sue you."

Instead of the witty-slash-a-little-saucy retort I'm expecting, she remains silent. The voice in the doorway tells me the all-important reason for her sudden quiet. Oh, God's really gunning for me now. I would know that self-righteous voice a mile and a half away.

As the great history of my relationship with Elena will attest, little bo peep - sorry, little bro Stefan I mean - is the world's greatest cock blocker.

Seriously, he deserves an award for that shit. I turn around, shielding Elena from his shocked-and-raging look.

"Two things," he says, and I can feel his rage bubbling in the way he says it. "First off, please explain to me what this blonde girl is doing, sprawled on our carpet with a bite on her neck. Second, I'm fucking _dying_ to know why you're both half-naked against the wall."

Alright, cue Handel's Messiah and that Stephen Hawking computer voice saying, "Life litany activated."

That's right, my life's sordid litany. You wanna know what that is? It's easy, let me teach you. There's only three words to the whole thing and the shit loops over and over, so it shouldn't be too hard to learn. Here goes.

Elena and I have just been caught making out, by no one less than the distinguished Mr. Stefan Salvatore.

You guys ready? Say it with me, folks.

Shit. Fuck. Hell.

* * *

A/N To the users I specified above, just a reminder to complete the connection process for DocX, okay? Now, to my incredibly amazing readers, please remember to leave me a review because I really do treasure every single piece of feedback. Also, as much as I would like to personally reply to every review, I've made the choice to use my time writing so I can update promptly. Given that, please know that I truly appreciate everything.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Seriously guys, all of you are so fucking awesome that it hurts. Given that, I do freaking apologize. I've been less prompt than I usually am, given how I wanted to reflect a whole lot on the things that happen in this chapter. With that out of the way though, let me just wish you all happy reading and don't forget to leave me a review, alright?

* * *

EPOV

Shielded as I am by Damon's body, I'm forced to stay calm and use my hearing to assess the whole situation.

"Now Stefan," I hear him say, "no need to get stupid over all this. We can talk."

"Talk, brother?" My ears pick up Stefan's scoff. "I don't need to talk to you. _You_ talk to _me_. I need to understand what the hell just happened."

Given the angry confusion vibe coming from the younger Salvatore, I make my decision.

Gently shrugging Damon's protective arm away, I right myself at vampire speed, before I walk slowly over to Stefan. Even though I have no idea where to begin with all this, I know he needs to hear it from my lips.

"What are you doing, Elena?" I hear Damon ask, so I turn around to face him for a second. More than ever, I know I need to handle this whole thing delicately.

"He deserves to hear it from me," I say, in a whisper.

Damon nods. "Alright, but I'll be close by just in case." At his words, I smile in gratitude. We're in deep shit and I think the three of us all know it, but his desire to protect me is still amazing.

However, before I can contemplate any further on Damon, Stefan cuts in. He speeds over to stand directly in front of me. Even if his voice is uncaring and flat, I know he's in pain. His eyes show too much.

"Can we move on to the part where you tell me what just happened?" His green orbs harden in just a millisecond's worth of time and I know I've seen this whole thing before. Damon's emotional withdrawal is something I've grown used to, but Stefan is a whole other kettle. "I need to understand this."

He goes deathly silent after that last plea, but his all-too-expressive eyes say everything his lips cannot.

_I need to understand, Elena. I need to understand why you didn't even tell me first before all of this happened. I need to know what changed your choice. What was it, Elena? Tell me, what made you choose Damon?_

"Stefan," I say, fully aware of how choked my voice sounds. "Come on, we can talk outside." In this moment, even my daylight-ring feels heavy. Another part of me is reminded that it was procured from Bonnie, though it was procured a little unwillingly. Right now, it feels so heavy on my finger.

Just before I leave, I hear Damon say my name and I know it's out of his well-meaning concern. I take his desire to protect into consideration, but I look at him as if to say, "I need to do this my way."

Mercifully, he lets me go with his younger brother after that, but I know he'll be close by like he promised. Knowing Damon, he'll be somewhere listening in on the whole conversation anyway.

* * *

DPOV

I stay by the back doorway, just near enough to clearly catch their words. Even if I know their conversation is supposed to be private, I just can't help it. The self-serving part of me wants to keep an ear open for what they talk about. Besides, I've told Elena I'd be close by anyway.

"Elena please," is the first thing I hear my brother say. A small part of me weeps at his pleading voice. "Please tell me that was against your will."

I wait for her answer. I don't know what I'll do if she says that she didn't want it. Drink myself into shitty oblivion and die, maybe.

"As much as I'd like to tell you that it was," I hear her say, "it wasn't." _Halle-fucking-lujah. Continue please, Miss Gilbert. _

Stefan's answer to that is very unsurprising. "What?"

"He asked me to kiss him, and I'm not ashamed that I did. I'm only ashamed I couldn't stop myself before I could tell you that I've already chosen him." She pauses. "Damon is my choice now, Stefan. I'm so very sorry you found out this way, but I'm standing up for what I feel. You deserve the truth, so I'm being honest with you even if it will hurt. My choice won't change."

Holy _shit_. After she says that, it goes so freaking quiet that I can probably hear the dust motes floating down onto the boarding house's hardwood floor. Even so, Stefan's silence says it all, so I know it's one-nil in my favor. Please excuse my un-brotherly rejoicing, but I feel awesome right now.

"Why him?"

_Seriously, brother? That's your question? How cliché! _

My mind prepares another unvoiced jab at his question, but I hear Elena's sigh before I can spout off any more internal snark. The familiar sound probably means she's preparing for another one of her epic, long-winded speeches. I lean against the door now, straining to catch her next words.

"A lot of things happened over the summer, Stefan. You changed and I changed in order to deal with that. Damon had to change too. Everyone did." I hear her measured breath before she continues. "There's also the things I learned just recently. Those things are the biggest contributors, Stefan."

"To what?" my brother asks. "To you choosing him?"

One-fourth of a second passes before she says, "Yes."

_Fuck me, but that yes is truly the best thing I've heard in this whole century. Well, apart from her moans when we were kissing, cause those sounds are pretty awesome too._

"What exactly did you learn, Elena?"

"I learned that I met him first, and he did something during that meeting which I just discovered."

"Did he compel you?"

Uh, yeah, I did compel her. I was bad back then. Sue me.

Elena backs up my musings, though she backs it up without any of my sarcasm and edge. "He did," she says, "but not in the way that you think. He didn't compel me to do anything but forget that we met."

"Oh." Hey, so check out my younger brother Stefan. He's the glorious king of answers so fucking _inept_ that they're bloody laughable.

Listening with a rueful smile curling my lips, I wait for her to continue.

"That's not the only time," she says. "He compelled me again, around that time when you guys first dealt with Elijah."

Oh motherfucking hell, this is it. Shit's really going down now.

"What did he do that time?" my brother asks.

Well fuck your fucking question, Stefan.

Lord, if you really do exist, help me. Don't make her tell him in a way that makes me look like a whipped pansy. Please? My barely-salvageable badass reputation is smashed as it is. Jesus, if it gets smashed even more, next thing you know I'll be distributing relief goods in Africa.

"He made me forget again, Stefan. He told me he loved me but that he didn't deserve me. He told me that only _you_ deserve me, Stefan, so only now do we both realize just how good of a person your brother is."

I hear her take a breath like before and he says, "And then?"

"Then he made me forget his entire admission, Stefan. And while I resent him for taking my choice away, who really knows, to be honest? Now I think that maybe I would've chosen him in the end anyway."

Okay, that kinda _did_ make me sound like a self-sacrificing martyr, but it doesn't really matter.

You see, all my thought processes have now terminated at her most recent words. Now I'm ruled by uncontrollable instinct, instinct so strong in its demand that I feel like my knees will give out any second now. That instinct is telling me to cherish the _hell _out of Elena Gilbert.

Of course, like all things that concern Elena, it's my own love for her that floods me next.

For a moment, the strength of that love makes me fear for my own sanity, makes me ask myself if I'd end up dying at her hand. Surely her love would kill me. Hell, she hasn't even really told me yet and I'm dying nonetheless. Before I can register my own movement, I'm already in the backyard and standing beside her. Right now, I don't even care if my arrival has made Stefan look like a fish out of water.

"Did you mean what you just told him?" I ask, and I know that her answer will dictate my whole fucking future.

Jesus, I sound like Edward for that Bella chick. Fuck.

"Yes, I meant it," is all she says, and it's all I need to hear.

In stark contrast, when I turn my head to my younger brother, a piece of my unbeating heart breaks at the look in his eyes.

They've always been filled with his signature broody turmoil, but they look like a fucking _storm_ right now. I swear, I can practically see every single emotion of his, swirling madly in the green. I easily catch a flash of hurt and a heady dose of rage, but mostly all I can see in his eyes is denial.

I actually know how he feels, as strange as that may sound. I felt exactly the same when Katherine told me she'd never loved me. Even more saddening, that was right after my glaring error in judgment, an error where we ended up making out and she ended up breaking my fucking heart.

Manipulative bitch.

Yep, after she told me her whole _always-gonna-be-Stefan _bit, I too was in the throes of maddening denial. This time however, the tables are so cruelly turned and Stefan's the one going into emotional shock.

From her place beside me, I feel Elena grip my hand. I know she somehow saw everything I did, so I'm sure her martyr complex is going all sorts of crazy. Just as I'm waiting for her to tell me it's all a farce and that she actually still chooses my brother, he steps in and robs us of the silence.

With his voice low and somewhat clinical, he addresses her first. "Do you love him?" he asks, like some minister in a church. Somehow, judging by his delivery, something in that question is so unbelievably loaded in a way I think I'll never fathom. Still, it's her answer that I care about, so I tamp down on my curiosity. A seeming eternity soon goes by, but in the end she speaks.

"Yes I do, Stefan," she whispers, and I'm excitedly waiting for the next bit. "I'm in love with Damon."

When I hear her affirmation, my heart sings a million songs all at once. It's mostly that ballad-y romantic shit that I once ridiculed and laughed about. Still, my ridiculously energetic inner celebration is cut short. His eyes as freaking broody as ever, Stefan asks me next.

It's the same question, to which I have the same answer as always.

"Do you love her?"

At that point, I take a second's worth of time to pause. This is definitely not how I envisioned everything to go, but I'm somehow fine with it. After all, it can't be denied that my relationship with Elena is typified by unpredictability.

A second and half passes. A slight breeze hits my cheek.

Soon enough, I turn to Elena and freeze. Consistent with all the times I've been distracted by her physical beauty, I'm momentarily entranced by the sight of the fading Virginia sun hitting her hair.

Finally, when my Gilbert-addled brain reasserts reason and order again, I smile at her one last time. After a quick look at Stefan, I say it.

"Yes." Somehow, my voice is just above a whisper. "Yes, Stefan. I love her."

Her answering grin? Well, let's just say it makes me _way _too giddy.

Still, when I turn back to Stefan, I see the heartbreak in his eyes. One by one, I know his emotional walls are going back up, so I'm sure the next few days will be especially rocky. As if to prove that point, he blurs away in a burst of speed, making his exit without another word. Elena and I are left standing in his wake, and I'm sure both of us are struggling to let our newly-confirmed love sink in.

The whole sinking in bit seems to be taking some time on her part, but I'm content to just look at her. I know I'm happy now and Stefan isn't, but damn it to all to hell. Primarily because it feels so fucking good to be me.

* * *

EPOV

I'm still having a hard time processing what just happened, and that's because I'm dying from the look in his eyes.

First off though, a quick recap of the facts as they currently stand - Stefan just left, _I'm_ looking at Damon and _he's_ looking at me too. More importantly, we've both admitted that we love each other in equal measure. Of course I feel like a huge weight has finally flown off my shoulder, but for now I want him to shut his eyes for a second.

Here's why.

As a human, I begrudgingly thought that his eyes were the prettiest in the whole world. Now that I'm a sense-upgraded vampire, they seem so devastating in their beauty that I can't even think straight.

To be honest though, the beauty of it isn't really the problem. The whole aesthetic thing? I can deal with it pretty well. What I _can't_ deal with are the glaringly-clear sentiments, the ones floating in those endless oceans of blue.

In this moment, I can see _all_ of Damon just from looking in his eyes. I can see the man and the vampire, the soldier, the lover and the brother. I can also see the rejection, the unbelievable hurt and the heartbreak. Clear as day, I can see the pain and the agonized loss that he's gone through.

I can somehow see his _entire_ history, a somewhat sad tale that until recently kept getting repeated. Granted, the whole sight makes my heart clench a great deal, but that still _isn't_ the most important thing that I see in his eyes.

What renders me captivated is the _love_ I can see in the blue. I can see his love, all of it directed so completely and frighteningly at me. I can see his devotion, so pragmatic and unapologetic, so unlike any other devotion on the planet. His eyes now speak of a man who'd probably jump in front of a figurative and a literal speeding train, happy to it if it meant my survival. Hell, Damon _has_ jumped, now that I think about it. He's jumped countless times already.

Beyond even that, I can see his adoration. He's not looking at me like I'm Elena Gilbert, not even as if I'm some sacred angel sent from above. Instead, he's looking at me like I'm his whole fucking religion and it has me completely afraid.

Yes, I admit it.

Right now, as I stare at Damon for what seems like forever, I'm fucking afraid as hell again. I'm unraveling completely on the inside and his previous words are echoing in my ear like some long-forgotten love song.

_You want a love that consumes you._

Oh yeah. I'm definitely being consumed. To be perfectly honest, I'm really frightened by the enormity of our love. Given how untamed and how wild Damon is, who wouldn't? I'm being _fucking_ eaten up in the whirlwind that is Damon Salvatore. I'm even a little surprised at all my cursing but hey, cut me a little slack.

Also, by the way, guess what?

I'm getting lost in Damon Salvatore and it's fucking _beautiful_.

But hey, that's par for the course though, right?. Of course, also given my familiar inability to form any coherent thought when I'm near him, I unsurprisingly find my next words to be sadly insipid.

"So you love me, huh?" I say, and I totally feel like a lovesick woman in those clichéd romance novels.

On the other hand, his response as always, is quintessentially _Damon_. It's simple and it's beautifully understated, but the undeniable sincerity behind it is the only thing that really counts.

"Yes I do love you," he says, kind of in a raspy whisper. Suddenly, he cradles my face in his hands and I can acutely feel our contact. Even his scent, so indescribable in its imprint on my brain, is leaving me stunned and wordless.

When he finally kisses me on the forehead, not unlike how he did it when he compelled me, I give him my answer.

"I'm glad to hear that, Damon." I wrap my arms around him, feeling him soften into my embrace. "I'm glad to hear that because I love you."

He kisses me softly at that point, and then he says, "I know. I love you too, sweetheart."

Like I said. I'm getting lost in Damon Salvatore and it's fucking beautiful.

* * *

A/N So, how'd you guys like it? Also, to the special users I mentioned in the last chapter, tell me. Did I deliver on your wishes and expectations as desired? You know what do guys - hit that review button and tell me what you think? Next chapter, well, it's hi-jinks time. Besides that, I can't really tell you, though I think you guys know what's coming.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Shit, how long has it been since my last update? Let me tell you guys, Swaziland is not an Internet-friendly place. Luckily my volunteer coordinator's place had power so I could type this out, but only now am I uploading it. So sorry! Anyway, remember to leave a review and welcome to Chapter 5!

* * *

EPOV

Our new lease on life starts with Damon's casual request to go back inside. With every step that we both take back to the boarding house, the weight of our love presses down on us with irresistible force.

For a moment, my mind thinks of how terribly romantic my inner sentiments are. The vampire part of me is cringing slightly at my sappiness, but the human part of me is jumping with joy. I look at Damon and he says nothing, oblivious to the flurry of emotions going on inside me. When have his eyes ever been so blue?

God, I am so lovesick.

Midway to the living room, I suddenly find myself against the wall, my lips getting conquered by Damon's questing mouth. Every movement of our lips is a testament to our frantic need, a need tempered only by the newness of our relationship. I don't need to tell you it's pleasant, because it's Damon and no one expects less than perfection.

His hands are tangling in my hair, the same way mine are locked in his. It's his hips against mine, our chests pressed so closely that I can literally feel his sternum somehow. It's a kiss filled with so much urgency that I'm nearly buckling under the pressure.

What's really startling is the sentence he says right after we break apart.

"That was very nice," he whispers, saying nothing else for the next five seconds. He speaks again, his words given more weight by the way his eyes reflect the depth of his emotion. "I'm floored by how happy I am that I can kiss you now."

The simple but sincere joy on his face leaves me stunned. It's right there, broadcasting loud and clear for the entire world to see. It's like a huge, beautiful and kinda fucked-up neon marquee that goes, "Hi, I'm Damon Salvatore and let's sing a song. If you're happy and you know it show your fangs."

I know. Weird right? Must be my vampirism playing tricks on my head.

His happiness is so tangible that I feel like I can carry it in bag. For the first time in a very long time, his smile is genuine again, reflecting all of his feelings with heartbreaking and honest intensity.

I find myself a little incoherent at the whole thing, so all I can say is, "I'm happy too, Damon. Half because I finally feel free and half because your happiness is rubbing off on me."

"That's good," he says, gently nuzzling my ear and neck. His cologne and his unique smell is drowning me again. "I like you being so happy. Makes you look beautiful."

I decide to tease him, pouting. "I only look beautiful now? I'm hurt, Damon. So hurt."

He swoops down to kiss my pout away, leaving me with nothing but a heartfelt dose of love for the elder Salvatore. By the way he smiles, it's clear that he finds the whole thing adorable.

"Don't be hurt, my sweet Elena," he says, blue eyes shining with his affection. "You always look beautiful to me."

I really don't know if I can say anything to top that, so I let my kiss speak for me instead. Judging by Damon's appreciative grinding and the creak of the wall behind us again, he doesn't mind my assault one bit.

* * *

DPOV

I'm pretty sure that a vase can also be a cockblocker. I know this because our kiss would never have ended, were it not for the sound of a vase shattering from somewhere to our left. For a moment I think it's because of our make-out session, until I hear Blondie's voice ringing in my ears.

Turning my head, I say, "What the fuck are you doing here, Caroline?" Bloody fucking town just won't give us a break, and fuck all, Caroline Forbes just broke a vase to get our attention.

"Okay, first of all, I should be asking you two a similar question. One that goes like this. What the hell are you two doing macking on each other?"

Her dainty little hands are on her hips, exactly like my mom used to look at me whenever I ate too many chocolates. Jesus. Elena is squirming against me, but I hold her in place and prevent her escape. Besides, the friction is delicious.

The vase's remnants are scattered all over the floor. Poor vase.

"Damon, let me talk to her," Elena says, but I silence her with one of my smoldering looks and a quick nip on her neck.

Caroline is still looking at us like we've both grown three heads each. I copy her earlier words. "First of all, _Blondie_, it's my house. You're the one trespassing. What do you want?"

She huffs at the derisive way I say my nickname for her. "I need to talk to Elena. As in like, right now."

"And what if I don't let you?" I honestly don't want to. All I want to do is imprison Elena in my bedroom and hopefully do all sorts of wicked things.

Speaking of wicked things, think of the doppelganger and the doppelganger shall speak. "Damon, don't be so mean," she says, and Caroline looks amused. Fuck, she's witnessing me in all my glorious, vampiric, elder brother whipped-ness.

"Yeah, don't be so mean to me," Blondie echoes, drawing a sigh from my lips. I shake my head in annoyance.

"I'm being ganged-up on," I say, pouting at Elena and stealing another quick kiss. "Don't be too long, sweetheart."

"Aww. What the hell happened to you, Damon? You sound so much like one of those men in the Nicholas Sparks novels that I read." I hear Caroline's trilling laughter. "It's funny to see you so soft."

I fix the blonde with my most scathing look, fangs out and all. It's my killer look, the one that tells her, _you just broke a vase in my house and you stopped my totally hormonal make-out session. Prepare to die. _Owing to the fact that Caroline is my girlfriend's best friend, my words aren't as harsh as my thoughts. My badass rep is so down the fucking drain.

"Shut up, Caroline."

That's the last thing I say before I back off of Elena and walk into the kitchen. If she's so determined to talk to Caroline, then at least I can work to surprise her while she's preoccupied.

Game on, Gilbert.

* * *

EPOV

Caroline and I watch with matching smiles as Damon stomps away like a scolded child. Half of me is surprised at the calm way that Caroline seems to be taking this whole thing, but I should've known she'd never be calm in a situation like this. I mean, she literally broke a vase just to capture our interest. There's nothing calm at all about that. I should've known. It's Caroline Forbes after all.

She's nothing but a raging river of questions that I can't keep up with, vampire or not. She goes on and on, and I find myself _slightly_ hating the fact that vampires don't really need to breathe. It certainly makes for a long list of uninterrupted questions.

The marquee is back, but now it says, "Hi, my name is Elena, and I'd like to welcome you to the Roman Inquisition, Caroline Forbes Edition!"

My mind is reeling and Caroline just _keeps_ talking.

_So you're with Damon now? How are you taking this? Is Stefan teaching you? Wait, Damon's doing it? Have you been okay? Where's Stefan? How is he dealing with this? And oh my God, Jeremy was so lonely when I came to your house. You're spending way too much time here. Okay, where's Stefan?_

From somewhere around the boarding house, I hear Damon's amused chuckles, followed by, "Good luck answering her, Elena."

Hot, escapist, vampire bastard. What the hell is he doing anyway?

Caroline still hasn't stopped her insane list of twenty-times-a-thousand questions, so I end up clamping my hand over her mouth. Yep, I know, it's totally idiotic and very unfriendly, but I just can't take it. Her eyes go saucer-wide at me and I wait for fifteen seconds before I remove my hand.

She tries to say something again and my hand goes up in preparation, but then she closes her mouth and we're good.

"I still can't believe you put your hand over my mouth, Elena."

I shrug, noncommittal. "What was I gonna do, Caroline? You flooded me with questions the same way you used to flood Matt's Facebook wall. I couldn't handle it."

She laughs, and her reaction catches me by surprise. "Fine, let's take it one question at a time. And before our girl talk begins, you have to promise me not to judge the same way I wasn't judging you and Damon."

"Not judging?" I ask, though I'm still smiling. You were totally looking at us in that _I'm so disappointed in you two _way of yours. You learned to do that from Stefan, didn't you?"

"Woah, back up for a second," she says, her eyes totally curious. "Since when have you ever disparaged Mr. Stefan _I'm So Perfect _Salvatore?"

I shrug again. "Things change. Being with Damon kinda alerted me to how serious Stefan always was."

"Alright, I get that," she says. Pretty soon, her hand is tugging me towards the living room couch. Once we're seated, she faces me with the same inquisitive look in her eyes. "So, you and Damon, huh? I'm not really too surprised."

I let out a breath, wondering where to start. "The summer changed everything. I was a little too afraid to admit my feelings, but now that I'm a vampire, everything is so strong that I can't deny it anymore."

"Oh God, now I feel awful." Caroline becomes pensive. "I told you to go with Stefan for the 20s dance. Damon must've been so livid."

"I was!"

I should've known he'd be listening in. I raise my voice as high as I can make it go. "Butt out of this, Damon Salvatore! Go back to doing whatever you were doing!"

Caroline only laughs at our antics. It's impossible to derail her during one of her inquisitions. "So Elena, how are you taking this? You okay?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm sure you can identify with me. I was overwhelmed by all the sensory input at first, but Stefan helped me get a handle on that, as did Damon. Of course, their methods were different."

She nods, communicating her understanding. More than ever, I'm thankful that she's not pushing too hard. "Have you decided on your preferred diet?"

"For your information, Miss Forbes, she'll drink human blood like a proper vampire, thank you very much!"

I groan, annoyed. "I said butt out of this, Damon!"

He follows that up with, "Sorry, dear!" and Caroline laughs at us all over again.

"Glad you find us amusing," I say.

"Totally do. You're like Tony and Pepper in that Iron Man movie, remember? Like two seals fighting over a grape." She gives me another small smile, before her serious face goes back on. "Hey, remember how I asked you not to judge me?"

I note the scared look on her face. "Yeah, I do. Why?"

Caroline leans in to whisper, obviously meaning to bypass Damon's all-too-inquisitive ears. It takes a minute for her rushed sentence to sink in, but once it does, excuse my French, it's a fucking doozy.

My voice is as low as possible, even if my lips are already pressed against her ear to whisper too. "_Klaus_? As in Niklaus _The Evil Hybrid_ Mikaelson? You're telling me that you like Klaus? Well, uh, liked?" The tense honestly confuses me.

The information has me floored, even as I pick up Caroline's sigh. To our shared relief, it seems as if Damon is entirely oblivious to the whole thing. She goes back to whispering.

"I know, I know. He's gone. I know this whole thing is weird and bad, but I saw a side of Klaus that you all never got to see. He's plenty fucked up, but there's so much good in him, that I can't help but feel bad."

"Why are you telling _me_?"

Her laugh is mirthless. "To copy your earlier statement, what was I gonna do? Tell Bonnie?" She tugs on my hand again, leading us to the forest at vampire speed. She continues at a normal vocal timbre now. "Bonnie would roast me if I told her. Her hate-streak for vampires goes a mile wide."

My agreeing response officially confirms my I'm-A-Bad-Friend status. "I know."

"See? And I know this whole confession is moot since Alaric staked him, but it feels good to get this off my chest. I told you because you're the only one with any remote hope of understanding. Damon did so many bad things and yet you still chose him. It's kinda like that with Klaus. I ended up liking him even though I wasn't supposed to."

"I get it, believe me." My response puts a wide smile, ostensibly of relief, on her face. "I understand, Caroline. I'm not judging."

"Thank you, thank you!" she says, hugging me really hard. The hug puts some normalcy into our definitely abnormal lives. The whole thing reminds me of simpler times, prompting a sigh.

When we finally disengage from each other, it's my turn to ask the questions. "So, what now, Caroline? What's in the cards for you and Tyler? Where is he, by the way?" Yeah, where is he?

Her reply reminds me of my usual. "I don't know." She pauses, and then follows up with, "No one does, and it's freaking me out most of all."

"Well, Damon and I will get on it. By all counts, the two Salvatores, even you, were supposed to die when Klaus did."

The thought of their death makes me shudder and Caroline picks up on it, comforting me. Now that Tyler's disappearance is at the forefront of my mind, I'm more confused than ever.

Caroline's voice grounds me to my spot, clearing the momentary fog in my head. "But we're not dead, so somehow Tyler must still be somewhere out there. Unless Klaus lied and he's not the sire of our bloodline, in which case…"

"Hey, hey. Don't think that. If Tyler's out there, we're gonna find him and bring him back."

Damon's sudden voice startles the two of us. Even after so long, that man's sneaking skills are still the stuff of legend. "Bring who back, Elena?"

"Tyler."

* * *

DPOV

Elena's mention of wolf-boy alerts me to just how out-of-touch we've all been. Besides the day when I picked up Elena's ring from Bonnie, she and I have been practically holed up with Stefan at the boarding house, training and letting out love admissions that still make me gooey inside. To be honest, my mind is still trying to catch up.

First Stefan runs off and now Tyler _I'm Somewhere Unaccounted For _Lockwood is about to become my problem. Damn it.

I look at Caroline. "You really have no idea where he is?"

She shakes her head. "This is all crazy. He's the only one unaccounted for," she says, copying my sentiments. "So either Klaus lied about being our sire and Tyler's dead, or he didn't lie and Klaus is still alive somewhere, same as Tyler."

To be honest, the thought of Tyler being dead is more preferable to Klaus being alive, but I know I can't say that out loud. In a situation like this, I opt for the simplicity of a well-spoken curse. "Fuck."

"I know," Caroline says. "Elena told me you'd help."

Okay, back up the truck. "What?" I look at Elena.

"Damon," she says, "we have to help look for Tyler. If he's somewhere out there, it's our responsibility to look for him as his friends."

Her speech makes me scoff, against my own wishes not to antagonize her and Blondie. "Friends? Tyler Lockwood bit me. How is that friendly in any way? I'm the last person to ask when it comes to looking for that jock."

I'm about to launch off into a tirade of additional reasons for why Wolfwood shouldn't be looked for, but Elena stops me in my tracks. Her eyes go wide in that damnable way, the way that guarantees my reduction into Salvatore putty at her hands.

Frustrating, annoying, damnable, _adorable_ girl.

Elena asks again. "Damon, please?"

I will not succumb. I will not succumb. I will not succumb.

"Sure, sweetheart. For you." Fucking doe eyes.

As soon as I acquiesce to her, the look on her face is all the gratitude I need. It's right there and I'm reveling in it. Her whole face is an undeniable confirmation that she's fallen in love with me all over again, just for saying yes. I glance at Caroline and she seems thankful too, even though she's fighting not to show it.

The two girls speak at the same time. "Thank you, Damon."

"That's me, you friendly neighborhood alcoholic." I turn my gaze to Elena, fighting to keep the dumb smile off my face because she's holding my hand. "My agreement comes at a price."

Elena bats her eyelashes at me. "And what would the price be, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Come with me to the kitchen."

To my enormous relief, she says nothing, gesturing in front of her and saying, "Lead the way." Even Caroline Forbes takes it as her cue to bow out at vampire speed.

Looks like happy times are ahead after all.

* * *

A/N There you have it, people, the fifth chapter of Finding the Light. Now that I'm back at home, the updates will come as promptly as before. Next up, it's time for Damon's surprise, as well as for the gang to reintegrate with the population of Mystic Falls. The way I see it, the next chapters are gonna be fun. I mean, who doesn't like playing with the possibilities given by TyKlaus, right?

Remember to leave me some review candy and hope you've enjoyed Chapter 5!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Just been in a slump of sorts. No more delays - I hereby give you the sixth chapter of FTL, and I hope to hear all your thoughts regarding it. As I've always repeated in previous chapters, hope you leave me some review candy!

* * *

EPOV

The smells are assaulting my nose with every measured step. The fragrant hint of an herb is wafting in the air. Basil, maybe, along with the smell of something slightly milky.

I try to keep my focus on the variety of scents, seeing as Damon's hands are securely covering my eyes. The two of us walking, so close to each other with him behind me. Given the rather slow pace he's set, he often reminds me to be patient instead of struggling against his hold.

First off, it would be dishonest of me to say I'm not enjoying this whole thing. Now and then a thought of Stefan or Tyler pops up, but then his voice is in my ear, and such thoughts get mercilessly squashed like unwelcome bugs on a windshield.

"Almost there, _amore_ _mio_," he says, and I melt on the inside. I may not be Italian, but I understand what he just said. My response is unstoppable, almost a force of instinct I can't deny. Nor do I want to.

"Love you, Damon," I say, and he stops our walking completely. A moment later, his lips are pressing a tender kiss to the crown of my head. After another one to my cheek, we continue our walking. The journey is spiced with his occasional nuzzles of my neck. Makes me ticklish, actually.

Soon enough, the now-concentrated smells announce our final arrival at the Salvatore kitchen. All the scents are stronger here, almost overwhelming in their intensity. I'm able to count for all of three seconds, before my eyes are freed from the gentle prison of his hands.

Though the sight in front of me is simple (just a rather large pizza, glasses of wine and some berries), I find it impossibly amazing that he would do something so romantic.

"You like?"

"Definitely," I say, followed by a hug and quick peck on the lips. "Thank you, Damon."

"You need normalcy, Elena. It's very common for new ones like you to crave these sorts of normal settings. It keeps you from being overwhelmed with your new life."

Damon's stated reasoning reminds me of how different he is from Stefan. Stefan always preferred grand gestures, sweeping and gallant proofs of his love for me. On the other hand, Damon has always been quiet, never pushing (except a few times) and never denying what he is.

Deep down, the elder Salvatore has proven that he prefers a dose of simple pragmatism to go with his devotion. Only now do I realize what a good combination that is.

I repeat my thank you to him, not really able to say anything else. He answers me with a smile, tipping my chin up for a quick kiss before he hoists me onto the kitchen counter. At first I think he's about to kiss me, but then he grabs a slice of the margherita pizza instead.

The taste is heavenly. Like its maker, the pizza is simple, that same simplicity making it all the more special.

"Where'd you get the ingredients, Damon?" I ask, after I finish the slice he's lovingly fed me.

"I like to be prepared, Elena. Besides, you know we vampires can eat. I just prefer Italian. Must be the Salvatore in me," he says, the smirk on his face again as he shrugs.

"Can't argue with that, my good sir. I like a man who's prepared. Oh, and just to be clear, there's nothing remotely sexual about my statement."

He nods, his eyes lit up. "Of course there's not." Before I can stop, he sidles in between my legs. With me sitting on the counter and him standing, we're the perfect height.

His lips find mine again for the briefest of moments, before he turns around. Now his back is to me, his arms pulling on mine. Before long, my hands are on his shoulders, and then I let them drape down over his upper torso. It's my turn to kiss the crown of his head, the lingering scent of his shampoo wafting into my sensitive nose.

"I love you," he says, his voice not that loud. "Now get me a slice, wench."

I laugh at his verbal antics before doing as he asks. "Feed me, _amore mio_," he whispers, and I'm unable to resist.

Though the mozzarella and the tomatoes present somewhat of a problem, I decide that a mess is preferable to not satisfying him. After all, it's not every day that he does this sort of thing. Special circumstances call for special mess exceptions.

Ripping the second small piece from the rest of the slice, I angle my head to watch as he eats the morsel. The next three pieces are much the same. It's on the sixth bite that he becomes suddenly playful, nipping my finger before soothing the area with a quick lick of his tongue.

"Nice," he says, and I know it's both the pizza and the taste of my skin. My smile is indulgent, his infectious happiness rubbing off on me big time. I always knew he was like hard candy - all goo on the inside once you crack the hard (and really attractive) shell.

For the next thirty minutes, we take turns feeding each other and finishing our wine. All throughout the meal, Damon never once leaves his newfound and newly-favored spot between my legs.

Once the pizza is finished, I turn to him and ask, "So, Mr. Salvatore. Now what?"

"I hope you'll agree to accompany me upstairs." The way he says it is enough indication as to what he wants. He's facing me now, eyes alight with the possibilities.

"Accompany you to do what?" I ask, in a mixture of futile curiosity and a little bit of fear.

After all, I've never done it with Damon and he's been with what? Hundreds? Thousands of women, maybe? For all I know, he could have been with freaking Marilyn Monroe or Mae fucking West, for God's sake.

What if he thinks I suck?

Wait, suck? Fucking vampire puns.

His eyes are lit up, amused at the tone of my question. "Anything you want to do, we will, sweetheart. Please don't tell me you're worried. You don't have to be."

* * *

DPOV

Elena's worried look is amusing, to be honest. Still, I know that there's no reason for it. I understand she's worried about not measuring up, but really, there's no reason at all to feel that way. She, of all people, not measuring up? Nope. Nuh-uh. Never gonna happen.

"Sweetheart," I repeat to her, my hands on both sides of her face. "No worries. If the whole upstairs thing worries you, we'll take it slow."

Her face falls. "I know you want to, and I'm sorry for my freakish paranoia. If you wanna go, we'll go."

I shake my head at her, pressing a tender kiss to her cheeks and then her lips. I won't rush this. I want it, yeah, but I'll make sure she wants it completely too. "You know what? Better idea. We'll go hunting so you can clear your head, and then maybe visit Jeremy. God knows we've left that kid alone too long. Would you like that?"

She pauses, and I don't know if I've done something wrong. I'm just about to say something, but then all I can suddenly feel is the sensation of her lips all over my face and neck.

I'm tempted to ask her what brought on the display, but fuck that, really. Why look a gift Elena in the mouth, especially when said mouth is bestowing a flurry of kisses?

Anyhow, I really don't want it to stop. This shower of affection is addicting, and I make pains to just stop and enjoy it. Since that's what she clearly wants me to do, I just bask contentedly, absorbing every gesture of need and love she's giving me.

About five minutes in, she stops and I finally begin my slow descent from heaven.

"Thank you, Damon," she whispers. "For being so good to me."

That? That was the biggest validation of my efforts ever.

* * *

EPOV

It's surreal, watching Damon hunt, his form darkened by twilight and yet still perfectly visible. His pursuit of our target is a smooth operation, finished quicker than I would've anticipated.

From first contact to his final coaxing gestures, all leading to the Grill's side alley, Damon's content to do the work and then just help me reap the rewards.

Just to be honest, his particular brand of perfection is mesmerizing but distracting at the same time. Standing beside him, watching him sinking his fangs into the neck of tonight's target - it's a miracle I haven't jumped him yet.

Really. Why haven't I? Shit, I have more control than I thought.

"Come here, sweetheart," he says, beckoning me. His lips are reddened by the blood and it's safe to say that my control has now been summarily destroyed. "Drink up."

Damn you, Salvatore.

As I take my place by his side and lean down to the neck waiting for my mouth, I take two deep breaths to calm myself. I know it won't do to be too excited, otherwise this girl is probably gonna be toast. I really don't want that, by any means. Killing someone is a horror I'd like to avoid, thank you very much.

Before I finally drink, I give Damon a quick glance. Short as our exchange is, it's one that screams, "Help me again, alright? Don't let me fall."

He nods at that, and I'm filled with a new sense of safety I didn't have before. Again, it's a devoted reassurance that he'll always be one step behind to watch me every day, just as he's always done for as long as I care to remember.

God, really.

I love this man.

* * *

JPOV

What the fuck? This is some Jerry Springer shit, and I'm not kidding.

It's hard enough to wrap my head around the concept of Damon and my sister being together, but catching them making out on the couch is a whole other cup of tea. To think, I only put the extra take-out in the fridge, and now I'm witnessing their valiant efforts at eating each other's face.

Goddamn it. I make my presence known. "Hey! Separate, please. I'm mentally scarred and badly traumatized."

Come to think of it, the scarred and traumatized part is true. There's nothing that infringes on sanity quite like witnessing your sibling with her new boyfriend. It rivals Alaric and his whole, "You can thank me tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that." Shit. Now I miss him again.

And yes folks, I'm still trying to get used to the idea of my sister as a vampire. Seeing her suck face with Damon Salvatore really isn't helping that cause.

"Sorry," they say, in unison, before Elena stands and looks me over. "You doing okay, Jer?" she asks, hands cradling my face.

"Yeah, doing fine," I say, before pointing to a portion of the take-out they brought from the Grill. "Add to that, you brought me dinner, so plus points. Gotta be honest though, seeing you two make out kinda cancels that."

"Shut up, baby Gilbert," Damon says, and I just shake my head at him. "Leave your sister and me alone."

I shrug, smiling. "I'm perfectly fine with that, but you're in my house, which prevents the leaving alone part."

Both of them shake their head. Only now, as I'm observing them, do I understand a bit of what Rose meant. Stefan is good for my sister - always has been and always will be. On the other hand, seeing how safe and happy Elena looks, Damon is better.

Now, believe me, that conclusion has not been easy to arrive at. Add in the fact that Elena seems to be thriving under his guidance, and well, I don't really have much of a choice.

I may have my private doubts about Damon, but it seems those don't really matter in the greater scheme of things.

"So Jeremy," I hear him say, his arm slung protectively over my sister's shoulder, "you really doing fine? Not worried or anything?"

I turn to face him, the three of us on the couch. "Elena's doing well with you, which takes a lot of worry off my shoulder." At that, I see my sister's eyes glaze over for a bit. "But I swear to God, Damon, you hurt her and I'll stake you."

"I wouldn't dream of hurting her," he says, and then amends his statement. "At least, not willingly. God knows I'm fucked up. Something's bound to happen." His honesty actually has me taken aback for a second.

"And maybe something _will _happen," Elena says, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "But we'll survive it. We always survive."

A look passes between them at her statement, and that one shared moment obliterates the majority of my fears about their relationship. It's something private, I know, kinda like an inside joke I'll never get. Still, it's there, the look of two people who'd kill to keep their love alive and well.

And though one half of me is sad at the shit all of us have gone through, the other half is happy that my sister's finally found some semblance of peace in her violent life.

If there's one person who deserves that peace, it's my sister, and that's a fact.

For the rest of the evening, I'm content to just watch them in their own little world, at least, when they're not making out like teenagers. I'd be lying anyway, if I said they didn't infect me with just a little dose of happiness.

Fucked up, I know, but this is Mystic Falls. In this town, you take whatever happiness you can get.

* * *

DPOV

The night passes with the three of us engaged in only slight conversation. For his part, baby Gilbert seems fine with chomping down on his dinner, leaving his sister and me to our own wicked devices. At Elena's behest, we try to keep our PDA to a minimum, but that doesn't stop Jeremy from berating us each chance he gets.

Now that four hours have ticked by, the whole berating thing is really getting old. Secondly, I think Elena's mentally drained as of this point, so you know what I say.

Time for a Salvatore intervention.

I tap Jeremy's shoulder.

"What?"

"As you can see, your sister is tired."

"I'm not tired."

I turn to Elena. "Hush, sweetheart. It's been a long day, filled with admissions, Caroline, pizza and hunting. Time to rest." Jeremy looks at me, and I say, "We're going to bed."

"You and Elena?" he asks, making me shake my head.

"No, Jeremy, actually you and I are going to bed because I have a huge man-crush on you that defies the test of time."

"Point taken, dick," he says, though his tone is light. "No funny business. Not in this house, please?"

I give him a smirk. "Can't promise that, Jer."

His resulting look of horror is fucking priceless, stuck in my brain all the way from our posts on the couch to the door of Elena's bedroom. Once we're inside that room, filled as it is with so many memories, all I can see is her.

* * *

A/N So, can anybody guess what happens next, what with this ominous and yet hope-giving ending? I'm sure some of you have ideas for what's to come, right? Hope to get to somewhere around 70 reviews with this one, maybe even 75. Come on, guys - embrace your inner Damon and be epic!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N So, back to the more regular updates. Just wanted to get this out to you guys, forget the review goal. I just couldn't wait, given the fact that you guys liked the last chapter. Tell me what you think!

* * *

EPOV

The first thing I feel when I wake up is the sensation of someone kissing my face and neck. Simultaneously, I also detect a weight resting over me, but it's comfortable instead of being overbearing. It's as if the owner of the weight is considerate enough not to crush me. I find it relaxing in a way, so I try to keep myself in sleep. Just as well, said owner of weight seems to not like that idea.

"Wake up, Elena," I hear, and my eyes flutter open. The blue eyes looking down at me easily take my breath away, even though I don't need air in the first place. Excuse my French, but holy fuck, my man is beautiful.

In this moment, I feel so very human, just taken aback by the beauty of the man above me. Damon's raven hair is casual yet stylish, his eyes bright and shining as they gaze at me. Even the planes of his face are involved in the conspiracy to render me a puddle of admiration. More than that, my heart soars in the knowledge that he's the man I love.

"Hi, Damon," I whisper to him. "Did you sleep well?"

"With you? Of course I did," he says, kissing my forehead, cheeks and then lips as he tries to keep his weight off me. Such a considerate guy. "What do you want to do today?"

I smile at his normal-sounding question and glance at my bedside clock. It reads 7 am, so I'm kinda sure Jeremy isn't up yet. If he is, well that's a miracle of some sort.

"I was thinking breakfast would be good," I tell him, finally leaning up to give him a kiss of my own. All of a sudden, a dose of worry creeps in, a dose which is wholly unwelcome. "Did you hear from Stefan?"

He shakes his head and gets off of me, choosing instead to sit on the bed. His eyes are stormy, and I know he's worried about his brother. I'm pretty sure Stefan's also somewhat of a sore topic, given the relatively new footing of our relationship.

"Still no word on baby bro," Damon says. "I have no idea where he's gone. Also, I did sneak out at 1 am this morning to do a quick sweep of the town, no sign of wolf-boy either."

At the bit about Tyler, I can honestly say I'm surprised. I did expect Damon to care about Stefan, but I didn't think he'd do something like sweep the town for any sign of my friend. God knows that Tyler and Damon have no love lost between them, so the whole sweeping thing is news to me.

"Thanks for trying to look for Tyler too, Damon."

He shrugs. "You asked me to look, so I did. I told you I'd do it for you, and I'm not gonna go back on that, even if Wolfwood isn't really high on my list of priorities." His face takes on a thoughtful mask. "In fact, he was never a priority until you asked him to be. Like I said, I'll do it. For you."

Damon not liking Tyler is a given to me, a fact of life I'd long accepted. Still, the last part of his sentence makes me melt. It warms my heart to know that the man I love is so willing to put aside his hostility in favor of the request I asked of him.

With every second that passes, I'm slowly becoming surer that I made the right choice in loving Damon. Honestly, I can now say that if I had to do things over, I'd still pick him all over again every time. There's no moment when he's not showing how he loves me, and I adore him all the more for it, given our history. I'm not quite sure when hatred turned to friendship and to love, but like I said, Damon just sort of snuck up on me and now I just can't shake him.

Why would I want to, anyway?

"God I've been so stupid."

"What?"

It's my turn to shrug. "I just realized now. I've been so stupid to wait this long to choose you. I really don't know why I did that."

He dismisses my words with a careful kiss to my lips, arranging us so that we're both in bed, with me leaning on his chest and his arms wrapped around me. "That's in the past now, _amore mio. _I'm just glad you chose me in the end."

His Italian endearment makes my eyes glaze over. "Still," I tell him, "I feel bad for it. I have no idea how you dealt with seeing me and Stefan for so long. It must have hurt."

"Like a bitch," he says, nodding. "I'd see you and my brother, hear you in his room down the hall from mine. Everyday I'd witness your whole love fest, jealously and hopelessly wishing that one day it would be you and me. To be honest, seeing you with him sickened me pretty early on. I hated how he'd stifle your fire with his mellow safe-ness, how he never seemed to recognize how to make you challenge yourself. I really hated it."

Hearing him admit his hurts is cathartic, now that I think about it. I'm pretty sure the admission is necessary, even if it's just to give Damon a chance to air out old wounds. I personally know how much he bottles his emotions, so I recognize the importance of letting him get things off his chest. If he wants to air everything out, I'm going to let him.

"You know Damon," I tell him, "he challenged me once. When we were at the lake house. He told me that my whole martyr streak wasn't heroic at all. Stefan told me it was tragic."

"Oh? Good then. Points for baby bro, given that sudden episode of wisdom. Words like that don't often come out of his mouth with regards to you. He's all _let Elena make her choice _and shit, no matter what."

Once he's done speaking, I have pretty much no idea what to say in reply. The storm is back in his eyes and his grip on me is tightening. Somehow I just know that his turmoil is because of my new life as a vampire. I think he views it as a result of Stefan's inability to protect me or something like that. Knowing Damon, I'm pretty sure my theory's hitting pretty close to the mark.

"Damon, it wasn't Stefan's fault."

He sighs, and it's human-sounding. "He should have protected you first and foremost."

"Hey, stop it. I told him to save Matt."

"And look at the outcome. He should have saved you, but because of his whole fetish with free will, you died and became a vampire. That's not an acceptable outcome to me, Elena. He promised me he would keep you safe and he failed that promise. I want to be honest. It will take me some time to forgive him for that."

"Don't be so hard on him. I made my choice and told him to save Matt. I don't regret that choice, Damon. I don't regret giving Matt a chance to survive, to have a life. He deserves it."

"And that, my sweet Elena, is why I love you," he says, whispering it softly in my ear. "You sacrificed yourself because you were sure he deserved to live. You're a first-class martyr, and sometimes it's ridiculously annoying, but deep down you have to know that I adore you for your desires to keep us all safe."

My immediate reward to him is the emotion that overtakes my brown eyes. I can literally feel my eyes glazing over again, and I think he can tell that his statements have struck a very deep nerve. Fortunately for us both, it's the right nerve.

"Thank you for saying that, Damon," I say. "It means a lot coming from you, knowing how you don't want me to sacrifice myself and all. Really, it does."

He strokes my cheek before he speaks, sneaking a kiss to my hair as well. "No one wants you to sacrifice yourself, Elena, especially not me. I understand that you want to keep us safe, but you also have to know we want the same for you."

"I know, Damon. I get it now."

"Good. It's not a matter of dying for the people you love, but it's a matter of living for them. I'd die for you, but I'd rather live for you instead. Alive, I can do more, be of more service."

* * *

DPOV

I can only hope she truly gets the logic behind my statement. It seems so though, given how she nods slowly at me, taking some time to let my words sink in. As she processes what I just said, I'm content to just hold her in my arms.

Somehow, I kinda like it this way, you know? I mean, for God's sake, Mystic Falls has fucked up our lives more than we deserve. I can take it, sure, but Elena shouldn't have to look over her shoulder all the time.

Normal 18-year olds celebrate their adulthood, not fear death from some smooth-talking specter that happens to have an awesome British accent.

Bastard Klaus Mikaelson.

The sudden arch of her eyebrow tells me I spoke the last thought out loud.

"Sorry," I tell her. "Just thinking of some things. He really is a bastard."

An uncomfortable look takes over her face at the bastard part. I don't understand why, but I dismiss it out of hand. "Something wrong, Elena?" I ask.

She shakes her head, nuzzling my chest in the process. "Nothing's wrong, Damon. I'm just thinking of some things too. In any case, you know you should get to breakfast while I get myself cleaned up for the day."

"Give me a kiss first?"

Again with the head shaking. "Nope. Not gonna do it. Think of morning breath, Damon!"

I sigh, amused. I don't think she's realized just how long we've already been talking.

"Fine, fine," I tell her. "But I will expect my kiss once breakfast is served. Take as long as you like, alright? I'll know when you're coming."

I tap my ears to indicate what I mean, watching her nod in understanding. After sneaking in another quick kiss to her cheek, I walk out of the bedroom with a huge fucking smile on my face. What I didn't count on was the complete lack of food in the pantry, along with a slice of self-analysis that I never expected of my bourbon-drinking self.

Come to think of it you know, time is arbitrary when you're a vampire. By the very virtue of being immortal, you become a sentinel, watching apart from all the action. In my 170 odd years, that's always been the case. I've been content to watch every pathetic attempt at finding meaning in a mortal life, I've gotten into fights, drunken myself silly, buried dead bodies and watched people seek endless solutions to problems. As to the merit of those problems, I honestly considered them trivial and unimportant. At least, I considered those trivial until I discovered just how lonely I was.

During my first few years as a vampire, I was consumed by hatred for Stefan. I hated him because he forced me. I hated how messy he was when he hunted and ate, hated how careless he was with cleaning up afterwards.

Even though I changed as time passed, even as the decades ticked by and my search for Katherine intensified, I still grew to hate my little brother all the more. I blamed him for telling Giuseppe and getting that as-yet-unknown bitch caught, thinking back then that I actually loved her. Now I don't care one bit about Katherine, and I credit that to Elena's amazing influence.

Again to be honest, I still don't fully understand just how much I've changed. Elena always says I've become the better man, but the whole sentiment is taking some time to sink in. I've always been second choice to Stefan, so I think it's easy to understand where I'm coming from. Even now, I still don't think I'll ever get used to Elena choosing me.

Speaking of her choosing me, I know I better make this breakfast the best ever. After all, I've not cooked breakfast for a girl in a very long time, plus it's Elena we're talking about here. As to actually making the breakfast, it's quite a feat given the current lack of supplies in the Gilbert pantry. It's to be expected since baby Gilbert really doesn't have a propensity for cooking, but it's frustrating nonetheless.

Stupid fucking pantry.

* * *

JPOV

No, no, this is not happening. Damon Salvatore, resident badass dick and de facto town protector, is not walking in a brown bag of groceries in hand. Oh wait, he is. The fuck is going on here?

I'm still a little shocked at the sight, so I just look warily at him while he walks through the kitchen, setting stuff down as he goes. He eyes me exactly the same way I eye him, as if he's telling me his deepest darkest secret.

Knowing how he is, you would think his dark secret is something like murdering John F. Kennedy. Instead, it's about cooking fucking blueberry pancakes with perfect goddamn batter thickness. Oh, this is rich. I'll never let him live it down, along with memories of family night and him playing Xbox with me.

"I never knew you were so _domestic_, Damon," I tease, passing him on my way to fetch something from the fridge. To my extreme surprise, it's stocked with all sorts of things I'm sure I didn't buy. "Hey, did you get all this?"

He nods. "Even the yogurt. I've been stocking up for your sister, since she might want a human snack along with our liquid diet. Thanks to your impressive lack of edible things, I had to bring shit over from my house to cook breakfast."

"Hey, don't hate on me. I'm a take-out person like Jenna. Besides, since when have you ever been so glad to cook breakfast?"

"Your sister wants breakfast, so I'm cooking breakfast."

I point at him, smiling. "Look how whipped you are. Never thought I'd see this day."

He shrugs, accompanying it with the lewdest fucking smirk ever. "Wouldn't you like to know just how whipped I am, Jeremy?"

"No thank you," I tell him. Dirty bastard. "No fucking thank you."

His laugh is the sound I hear next, followed by the twang of utensils as he begins his preparations. Seeing him whisk at vampire speed is amusing, and I can barely follow the blur of his hands and he measures and puts things into the mixing bowl. From my seat on the kitchen island, watching him is like watching Gordon Ramsay, plus they're both belligerent to boot.

"What are you looking at?" he asks, after a while.

"You," I say. "You look and act like a hyped-up Gordon Ramsay."

For a moment, he doesn't react to what I said at all. He just keeps preparing stuff, melting butter in a pan and transferring blueberries into the bowl at huge and half seconds later, I hear it.

He delivers it in much the same accent as Gordon's, and the whole thing is funny as hell.

"Wanker," he says, and we both burst out laughing.

* * *

DPOV

Not once in 170 years would I expect to be laughing so normally with Jeremy Gilbert. Even now, as I'm letting him watch the cooking pancakes, I feel a little tinge of relief for him. The poor kid's gone through more as a teenager than a fucking war veteran. And yes, I would know.

On that note, some part of me wonders why I feel this relief. Previously, I never cared about such things as the feelings of people around me. The only person I'd cared for was Elena, my brother and maybe even Rose. God knows it's a short list, and it's a battle to get on it. So now, as I'm watching Jeremy flip the perfectly-browned confections, I'm still wondering why I care.

To be honest, the vampire part of me chalks the whole thing to the fact that I love Elena. Following that logic, Jeremy Gilbert is on my I-Care list just by association. What's surprising though, is the fact that the man inside me kinda considers him as family.

Yes, did you hear that?

Baby Gilbert. Poor, battered, baby Gilbert, is hereby considered as family. Sure he's messed up, but really, how messed up can he be compared to me? I'm pretty sure no one would take my title for Most-Fucked-Up, so for the rest of my cooking session, I'm perfectly fine with letting Mr. Jeremy _Wanker_ Gilbert be my unexpectedly-useful sous chef.

* * *

EPOV

There are just some things you're never prepared to see, even after a luxurious one-hour morning bath. One of those things is seeing your non-cooking brother flipping pancakes. The other thing is seeing your fellow vampire and boyfriend plating the cooked ones. Let me tell you, it's a weird sight.

And yes, you heard right. Those are definitely two things on my list, and they're happening right in front of my eyes. Something's out of whack with the world.

"Good morning again, sweetheart," Damon says, earning an eye-roll and a shrug from Jeremy. "Breakfast is served, a little thanks to your brother."

Jeremy bows, a gesture of complete theatricality. "I'm touched. Thank you for recognizing my skills, Salvatore."

"Only your flipping skills." Damon points a wooden spoon at the pantry. "I do not applaud your complete lack of food items. Now the Salvatore kitchen is missing supplies. Fucker."

"Missing supplies? What did you do, Damon?" I ask.

The raven-haired vampire turns to me, shaking his head. "You wanted breakfast and the ingredients here sucked. Come to think of it, they were nonexistent. Your brother has been living on God-knows-what, so I vamp-sped to my house to pick stuff up."

"Oh."

Damon looks proud despite my poor, one-word reply. "Thanks to me, your kitchen and fridge is now reasonably stocked. There are snack items and raw ingredients. I stocked them at the boarding house for your benefit, but your brother has commandeered them as of the present, sucker that he is."

I blur over to him, intending to give him a quick kiss of thanks. Instead of the slow and steady which I plan on, it rapidly escalates to a hungry devouring of each other. It's all lips and tongues and teeth between us, two people frantic with need and barely-restrained desire. As if by an unknown force, I'm physically compelled to bask in Damon's lustful embrace, my hands beginning to clutch desperately onto his shirt.

It's only Jeremy's repeated coughing that breaks us apart. Yep. Normal people need throat-clearing to break apart. Jeremy needed to act like he had tuberculosis to get us to separate.

"PG please," he says. "I can't take much more of this torture. Please finish breakfast, and then take a hike back to the boarding house for your festivities."

To that, Damon just smirks. "Since when have you been so touchy, wanker?"

"Oh shut up, Gordon."

Their whole exchange is fun, yet also strange. I feel as if I'm out of it, like they're sharing an inside joke that only they can get. Even so, I'm happy to see my two boys getting along. It certainly takes a load off my shoulders, such that I'm now only worried about Stefan and Tyler. The two are still missing, and I can't help but worry a bit because of it.

"Well," I say to them, "whatever bromance moment just passed between you, I'm glad to see it. Besides, if it gets me blueberry pancakes, I'll be glad to leave you two alone."

Both of them shake their head. For my part, I'm just content to let Damon pull out a chair and sit down in it. Quickly enough, Jer fetches a pitcher of juice and pours the three of us a glass. Before long, we're all eating happily, with Damon on my left and Jeremy sitting across from us. It's a huge dose of the normalcy I always seem to crave these days.

You would think that being a vampire gets you accustomed to _not _being normal, even more so when you're a doppelganger like I am. To be honest, even I'm surprised by how much I still crave a shot of normal living every now and then. I guess Damon's right, I do need it to keep from getting overwhelmed.

For the most part though, I'm dealing with being a vampire pretty well. Given that, there are always those moments when I miss my humanity more than anything. Maybe you could counter that with the whole _I'm not actually human_ argument, but hey, I still felt human even if I was the ever-in-trouble doppelganger.

Speaking of wanting normalcy, this whole breakfast is unexpectedly comforting. Even if Damon's casually/arousingly resting his hand on my leg, even if Jeremy's eyeing us with a curious look, hell, even if we're two vampires and a human with a come-back-from-the-dead ring, the breakfast is still comforting for reasons I can't quite articulate.

Sitting here in a companionable silence, eating blueberry pancakes and drinking juice - it's an experience I truly welcome. Even the day seems to want to grant us some goodness, given how it's shining bright outside.

Right here, right now, everything is going well. At least, until Caroline comes barging in with a shocked look on her face.

"Tyler's back," she says, and I get that horrible sinking feeling all over again. Even though I don't know why I feel bad at Tyler's return, the feeling of sudden terror is still all over my gut.

* * *

A/N Boom, there you have the seventh chapter of FTL. Time to bring some plot in, courtesy of all the possibilities afforded by TyKlaus. In any case, remember to leave a review and thank you guys so much for reading!


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